Sizzling in Singapore (A Carnal Cuisine Novel) (15 page)

BOOK: Sizzling in Singapore (A Carnal Cuisine Novel)
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Then, the whole 'it's over because you lied to me' thing stank of contrivance. Nick knew Mae would have done exactly the same thing he had done. He knew her well enough by now to know that she'd face down an inquisition rather than betray a confidence. There had been too many examples of her loyalty and fidelity to friends and coworkers for him to buy into the flimsy excuse she'd put up for ending their affair so abruptly.

Time to call her bluff. Time to grow a pair, Nicky-boy. She's already done her worst to you and you've faced it. You can be miserable and possibly lose the best thing that's ever crossed your path or you can take action. What was it dad used to say? Oh yeah. You always lose a hundred percent on the chances you don't take.

Nick showered and shaved, pulled on a pair of shorts and a shirt and slid into his flip-flops. He always felt like he wasn't quite fully dressed when he wore 'regular' clothes. There was a group of young women in the lobby when he opened the elevator door and approached the concierge. The girls made no secret of watching him and a couple of them even whistled as he passed them. They looked like groupies for some rock band to Nick. All weird hair and funky clothes. He could hear them swearing loudly at one another and picked out a couple of comments that apparently concerned his ass and his hair.

He leaned over the concierge's desk and heard one girl murmur, "Mmmm, mmmm. Now that's what I'm talkin' about!" Nick ignored her.

"Say Sally, do you know where I can find a nice woodworking shop?"

"In Singapore, Chef? There are plenty. What do you want made? Furniture, frames, cabinets?" The efficient concierge already had her reference files pulled up on the laptop on her desk.

"Actually, I need to find someone who can make me a sign. So, it would have to be a place that has some kind of carver. I want it to be artistic."

Sally wrote down a name and address. "This shop has done some great work for not only some guests, but there are a few items around the hotel from them also. If I'm not mistaken, the 'Reception' sign and the ones for the banquet rooms all came from them."

Nick looked at the sign over the reception desk. The lettering was outstanding and the floral decorations were realistic and detailed. He wanted colors a bit more bold than the pastels used on the flowers, but he felt sure he could communicate his ideas to the artist well enough. "That looks perfect, Sally, thanks."

"Any cab driver will know the address. It's out Thompson Road."

In the back seat of the cab, he pulled out the paper he had roughly sketched his idea on. He was no artist, that's for sure. But at least he had put his ideas to paper and, given a talented enough carver who could listen and understand what he wanted, it shouldn't be too difficult to execute.

The shop was nestled among several in a rear portion of an all purpose shopping center that had everything from a food market to apparel and furniture. There were several frame shops and one or two other less identifiable establishments. Nick was tempted to nose around and look at what other choices he had, but he figured it was best to go with Sally's recommendation. He approached the wizened Chinese man who was sitting at the entrance to the open front of the narrow workspace. The man was absently whittling at a stick and his feet and the floor were covered with sawdust.

Nick described what he was looking for and the man called to another who came out from behind a jumble of boards, half-finished projects and various tools. "This my son," said the old man. "He help you."

The son motioned for Nick to take a seat at a rough board table and sat next to him. For the next half hour or so, they discussed the sign in great detail. Nick wanted to make sure that the fellow knew exactly how the sign would be designed. He wanted vibrant, rich colors and the text to have soft, almost cursive lettering. To his surprise, the son disappeared in the mess of the back and returned with a laptop on which he pulled up all the fonts he could imitate. They decided on teak for the wood because it was abundant and took intricate carving well. "It also resists termites," said the carver. Nick chose a very light piece of teak with some subtle shading.

"Look, I'm in kind of a rush for this." Nick realized that the carver probably heard that from every tourist who came into the shop for a 'Welcome to the Smiths' sign for their front yard back in Iowa. "I'm the Executive Chef over at the Elysium," he offered, thinking that maybe the promise of future business would sweeten the deal. Plus he hadn't dickered at all on the price, something that was a foregone part of any purchase on the island.

"Today I work. Tomorrow afternoon you pick it up. That fast enough for you?"

"How 'bout tomorrow morning? I'll pay extra for the rush."

"Can't. Paint take time to dry.."

"I'll be very careful. I'll take full responsibility if I smudge your paint job"

"Your sign. Pick up tomorrow morning if you want."

"I'll be here first thing."

 

***

 

Mae banged a small angry fist against the suite's door. She had exited the kitchen after the lunch service was over and high-tailed it up to the eighth-floor room where Nick had been housed the past weeks. No one answered. She knocked again, this time with enough vigor to smart on her knuckles.

The door opened and he stood there obviously fresh from a shower and dripping wet. The water drizzled down over the peaks and valleys of his finely toned chest and just about did her in. His hair had been tousled around but not combed and she was ever so tempted to brush it away from his face, the better to see those gorgeous eyes. It was hard for her to find the breath to speak. The towel was secured at his hip leaving one strong thigh exposed and barely covering his groin. Summoning all the self control she could manage, Mae lit into him.

"How dare you? How-
fucking-
dare-you? What gives you the right to discuss my personal life--my private affairs--with a member of my staff?" Mae's eyes were locked on his, wide and lit with indignation. "Tank told me about your little drunken conversation last night. I can't believe it. I can't believe you would do something like that."

"Mae, I wasn't myself. Have you ever seen me drunk?" Nick shook his head. " Well I wasn't pretty last night. I guess I was a little overwhelmed with the shock that I'd be leaving within a week. I didn't expect it so soon."

"And that's the excuse you're sticking with? That's the reason for intimating to my friend--my friend who works for me--that I am a...that I'm some sort of..a predator?"

"I didn't say that."

"No, you simply implied that I was in the business of screwing around with every playboy, rock star or businessman who stays at the Elysium. Thank goodness you chose Tank to express yourself to. He's too loyal to spread your nastiness around"

"So now loyalty is a good thing, is it? You certainly didn't respect it when I was loyal to someone close to me."

"That's different."

"And that's always your fall back rationalization isn't it? That somehow what
you
feel makes
you
right, but what
I
feel doesn't count. It's okay for you to expect loyalty from your friends but you cut me off cold when I did the same for Kurt."

Mae knew he'd hit on a painful truth. She was at least pretending to hold him to a different standard. She changed tactics. "I can't believe that you would think I'm so shallow that I spend my nights just sport fucking total strangers."

"What would you have me think? Have you given me any reason to believe otherwise? You may recall that I was a total stranger. And Babe, if that night in the pool wasn't sport fucking I don't know what is."

Mae raised her hand high intending to slap the sarcastic smirk off Nick's face. He caught her wrist and roughly yanked her toward his body. The towel fell to his feet. "Just what," he asked as he pressed himself up against her, " do you think
this
is?" He pulled her hand down to his crotch and forced her to feel his hard cock. "And," he leaned down to kiss her "what do you think
this
is?" His mouth took hers in a violent, crushing kiss. She felt the taste of him and the lightning bolts of desire that he called forth pierced her. She struggled to free herself but he held her tightly in his embrace.

"I want you to tell me, Mae.
Tell me what this is
." He reached for her jacket and ripped the double-breasted panels apart scattering the little black plastic studs to the floor. Pulling her undershirt below her breasts, he savagely suckled them. "And this...
what is this
?"

"Oh god, Nick stop. Please." She felt herself cleaving into his flesh.

"I won't stop. I won't stop until you tell me." He pushed her pants and underwear to her ankles. "Tell me what you think it is, Mae!"

No, I can't tell you. I won't tell you. But I don't want you to stop. Ever.

He shoved her onto the bed and roughly removed what was left of her clothes. She stopped struggling. He began to kiss her again, and she felt the possessive crush of his bulk on top of her. His elbows framing her shoulders as he held her head, palms to her cheeks, fingers twined through her hair.

"Look at me," he demanded.

Mae reluctantly centered her gaze on his deep forest eyes. She was sure he could read the desire, the need and, yes, the love written on her face. She wanted him more than she wanted her pride, more than she wanted safety from the heart wrenching that would follow the bliss already seeping into her like a slow, fierce fire.

"Make love to me, Mae. Don't call it anything else because that would be a lie. Make love to me now and know in your heart that you are." He kissed her again, this time tenderly. His mouth slid down around the curve of her neck and she felt the shimmering heat of his breath on her skin. She quivered with the pleasure of his touch and wrapped her legs around his hips urging him forward, urging him to penetrate her body and her soul.

"Nick...I want to make love to you. I want you inside me." She struggled for breath. "You…you…complete me."

His cock found the warm wetness of her pussy and she guided him inside her with her hips. She felt the stretch of her intimate flesh around his and cried out his name again and again as he began to thrust into her.

"Feel it, love. Feel how much I want you, Mae."

His strokes fed her passion and she strained against him with uncensored hunger to be fucked, to be taken, to be owned. Thrusting deeply, he fed himself to the mouth of her womb. She could feel the head of his rod as it bumped into her sacred entrance. There was ecstasy in each upward motion, desire in each withdrawal. She forsake herself to the abandon of union with his body. She felt transported to a place where her most intimate and hidden self was laid bare and she celebrated the nakedness of it. She felt possessed in body and spirit and it fulfilled her deeply.

She could feel the dance of their flesh quicken in her quivering cunt. His pace became urgent, demanding her body to respond in kind. Her swollen flesh begged for the tight drum beat of orgasm. He murmured her name and words of rapture into her ear and each exclamation pulled her closer and closer to the explosion she so vitally desired.

She wrapped her legs tighter around him, hooking her feet at the small of his back. His long strokes restricted, he banged her with the full force of his weight against her mons. When the pulsing answer of her climax forced her legs apart once more, he drew his cock nearly out of her and slammed himself into her to his hilt. She clutched at his shoulders pulling him into her with the power of each spasm that racked her body.

He raised himself up on his hands and arched his back as he spewed into her waiting chasm. The animal noise of his release came from deep within his strong chest and to Mae, it was a melody of ultimate joy.

He held her tightly as he recovered and she nuzzled at his shoulder trying not to think, only to feel the blessed connection to him and be thankful. She turned her head away to hide the single teardrop that escaped from her eye, in passion or in sadness--she didn't quite know which.

The clock on the bedside table said 4:45.

"Ohmygod, Nick. Look at the time!"

He didn't immediately connect. She had to shake him from his cloud of contentment.

"Nick, we have a banquet for 250 in less than two hours. We've got to roll, handsome!" As much as she would have liked to stay and savor what had just happened between them, her sense of duty prevailed.

 

***

 

They threw their clothes on and hurried to the kitchen. Mae was sure they both smelled of sex, but she didn't have time to worry about it. The Chamber of Commerce banquet was one of the most important events on the Elysium calendar and had better be executed perfectly.

No one remarked on the fact that they were both late for something as important as this. The Elysium kitchen staff were top-notch professionals who weren't about to drop the ball at a critical moment. They were also far too well-trained to question the executive chef or his second-in-command about their tardiness.

Except for Tank, of course. "Well, Chef Maybe, glad to see you decided to join us. I got a few dinners to prepare. Care to pitch in?"

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